


Risk to See Success

by Atrailis



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Ant-Man (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Repercussions, Separations, after getting back, protecting and taking risks, separated not by choice or desire, summary is poor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-23 21:04:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13198539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atrailis/pseuds/Atrailis
Summary: Seven years since their return, Fitz takes a risk to see her success and talks to Daisy. Sometimes people become an example, sometimes a pawn of players bigger than themselves.





	Risk to See Success

  


He stood at the entrance of the pale, off-white building watching as the last few attendees streamed into the building. He looked at his ticket again, wondering if he really should be here, his colleagues assured him that there would be no repercussions on anyone but that lingering doubt still held. He fingered the ticket again, looking at the time and location information:

 

_February 8th 2024 7:00pm_

_Croonian Medal and Lecture 2024_

_Wellcome Trust Lecture Hall_

_Royal Society_

_6-9 Carlton House Terrace_

_London SW1Y 5AG_

 

His boss and colleagues had gone to a lot of trouble to get him this invitation, to get everything set up for him to be able to attend this event in London, knowing how important it was to him to see this happen.

 

A look at his wrist display as he pulled back his jacket and shirt sleeve indicated it was 6:55pm. There were no other attendees waiting to go in. He looked up at the building, it wasn’t the biggest or most impressive building in London, in fact it were it not for the fact that the Royal Society was here and the Royal Academy of Engineering adjacent, it would just have been another old building in London. Tonight though it was looming over him, making him nervous and twitchy.

 

He noticed a staff member at the entrance indicate to him that the time was almost up for people to get in. It was decision time. Though it wasn’t really a choice, even if it weren’t for all the work others had done to get him here, he couldn’t miss this even if he couldn’t really celebrate it as he would like.

 

He walked into the Royal Society, handing his ticket to the awaiting staff member stating, “Darnel Boyle, I believe there is a seat reserved in the rear row on my behalf.”

 

He noted that the staff member looked at a person manning a laptop on the other side of the doorway before getting an affirmative nod from them.

 

“This way, Mr Boyle, the introduction is about to start so we will have to be quick.” as the staff member ushered him through a couple of corridors to an open door to a darkened room.

 

On the way, he noticed a number of security personnel around and some recent additions to the surveillance cameras. This made him just a little nervous, he had forgotten that the security would have been heightened with the presenter and the nature of some of tonight's attendees.

 

The staff member indicated a seat in the back row, just next to the door. He thanked the person and quietly sat down just as the door was closed. The Wellcome Trust Lecture Hall was a large lecture room and it was packed with about 300 people on a flat floor with a raised section at the front of the room. The drapes on the windows had been closed over, eliminating the glow from the street lights, the lights dimmed save for those around the raised section. The raised section held a podium with attached panel table at which two women sat quietly conversing as the room began to quiet.

 

For the first time in almost 7 years, he was in the same room as her. He was looking at her with his own eyes unfiltered by a camera or screen. Thankfully, the darkness was his friend, no one could see him as he blatantly stared at her trying to burn her image into his mind once more.

 

The older of the two women at the front rose to her feet, moving towards the speaker’s podium. She was of indeterminate age and moved with a slight slowness, apparently favouring her left leg.

 

She tapped the podium microphone, twice the thump of her finger sounded through the speakers in the hall. All the conversation in the room ceased and everyone looked towards the awaiting speaker.

 

“Welcome to the Royal Society 2018 Croonian Medal and Lecture. I am Professor Fiona Bigby and it is my honour and privilege to introduce our worthy awardee and present them with the Croonian Medal.

 

I would like to welcome all of our guests tonight, a diverse range of individuals from the worlds of academia, industry, government and importantly the family of latest award winner.”

 

Craning his neck, he could just about make out, in the light spilling from the front, the Simmons sitting in the front row. He regretted not being able to talk to them but he wasn’t really sure of his standing with many people these days or if it would cause problems for others.

 

Alongside the Simmons, he could make out a few distinctive others, Coulson, Mack and Elena. He wished he could have joined them.

 

“We are here tonight to hear about the latest research in to altered DNA damage mitigation, specifically as the title of her published work states: Predictive Analytics for Altered DNA Damage Mitigation.

 

We are honoured to present the Croonian Medal to Doctor Jemma Simmons. Doctor Simmons has had an interesting path to this award and in her career in general, eschewing a more traditional research environment and working with the intelligence agency SHIELD. For the last 7 years, Doctor Simmons has been the head of the reconstituted SHIELD Science and Technology Division. An impressive posting, considering that she was only thirty at the time when SHIELD was reorganised and brought back into a greater public role in international security matters. Not only is she the head of their science division, she is also a field qualified agent.”

 

That struck him as an odd phrase, field qualified agent rather than field agent.

 

“Coming from her background in biochemistry, Doctor Simmons has become one of the world’s leading experts in Exobiology and Externally Altered DNA Effects. It is this work which has lead her to be nominated for the Croonian Medal, which she receives tonight and to be invited to present her work at this lecture for you all.

 

It is important not to under play this achievement, Doctor Simmons is the youngest recipient of the Croonian Medal, many previous awardees are far later in life before even being considered rather let alone being the recipient.

 

We will all look forward to future work from Doctor Simmons and I personally expect she will receive more nominations for this award. As you know, individuals have to be nominated for the award and Doctor Simmons was nominated by four different individuals in entirely separate efforts.

 

Her talk tonight will be on her research concerning the use of predictive analytics to help altered DNA individuals to mitigate the damage their abilities can do to their bodies and cellular structures, looking into pre and post alteration factors.

 

Though this topic will no doubt generate a number of questions, I ask that you hold them to the end of the lecture where there will be a short question and answer session followed by a drinks reception in the Dining Room located one floor down.

 

Without further ado, I present to you, the Croonian Medal awardee, Doctor Jemma Simmons.”

 

Professor Bigby moved to the right of the podium, waiting on Simmons to stand and take her place.

 

Jemma stood from her seat at the panel table, smoothing her professional outfit before carefully replacing the seat. He recognised the stalling technique, she was trying to tamp down the blush in her cheeks from the introduction, mild as it was in his opinion. His introduction for her would have extolled her academic and practical contributions to science far more, but then he wasn’t an option for that role these days, and Professor Bigby was highly regarded in international circles so it wasn’t faint praise by any stretch.

 

She started to move, and he took in her appearance before she took the audience on a trip through the awe-inspiring brilliance of her work. Her bearing was striking, back straight and movements graceful - but not so much that she appeared aloof or cold. Her clothing subdued, black trousers and jacket with a pale lavender blouse, professional nothing more nothing less. Embellished by only one adornment (unnecessary in his opinion): a necklace around her neck exposed by her braided hair. As he looked, he couldn’t help but notice the paleness of her skin, even more so than her remembered, and her frame looking to thin like she wasn’t eating enough. He hoped there was nothing wrong, that it was just the lighting and the stress of the event, wishing that he could reach out and ask, that he could reach out and hold her once again.

 

She shook the hand of the professor, a few words exchanged between them privately. He could almost predict the entire exchange even after all this time, that Jemma would be thanking her for her kind words and that they weren’t necessary and the professor would assure her it was nothing but the truth.

 

Then it was time, Jemma took her place at the podium, a small wistful smile on her lips as she tried to look out into the darkened room, to see her audience. He didn’t know whether he wanted the room to be lit and hope she saw him or that it was better this way.

 

“Thank you, Professor Bigby, for your kind introduction and to the Royal Society for this great honour. Thank you everyone for coming this evening, especially my parents whom I do not get to see often enough.”

 

Her voice was soothing, mellifluous to him as he tried to hear her every word, intonation and phrase, to store it away in his mind for when this was over. Her words were carefully chosen and purposeful as she took the audience through her work, as she explained concepts in an elegant and understandable manner. He had already read all her work, looked at everything on the topic she had written, he listened and heard her undeniable joy and passion for her work. He recognised and admired the brilliance of the techniques and approaches she had applied to her research.

 

Her talk was just over an hour, but to him it felt like just five minutes, over far too soon. Roused from his indulgence at getting lost in her work, he joined the applause at the end of her talk. It was almost over, he was going to have to leave soon.

 

The question and answer session was about to begin, and if things went as they usually did the lights would be raised, illuminating the room again. And he couldn’t be here when they did, he couldn’t endanger anyone's career or wellbeing at being recognised. He quietly moved to the door, slipping out as it opened to let in some staff with microphones for the audience to use in asking questions. He wished he could have stayed but it was time to leave now.

 

He left the building quickly, not pausing, trying to avoid drawing any further attention to himself. As he exited the building, he pulled the sleeves on his right arm down exposing his wrist display. He checked the body status on the display before looking at the ETA for his transport at the pickup point.

 

He moved to the end of the street before turning towards the Royal Artillery Monument, where his transport would be near soon enough. As he began to move, he heard a familiar voice shout behind him, “Leopold Fitz, stop right there.”

 

He slowly turned round to face the speaker. He saw the slightly shorter woman standing only six feet from him. He looked at her, taking in her appearance, noticing the changes in her from seven years ago. Her face a mix of shock and anger with hair shorter than it had been the last time they met in person. A new scar visible on the right side of her neck. Dressed in dark,functional tactical gear with restraints and an ICER visible on her belt, her hand resting on the weapon, she stood waiting for him to say something.

 

“Hello, Daisy”

 

* * *

 

She had watched the additional security feeds her team had set up the whole evening from the comfort of her mobile command centre. She had come a long way in her life and here she was back in a van, admittedly a really nice, comfortable van with all the latest technology but still it would have been nice to get dressed up and join the event inside. However, with so many of the SHIELD higher-ups in the event, it made sense for her to be where she was best able to protect them, running the security team and technology and able to react to any threat.

 

She had seen the nervous man standing outside the building for what seemed like ages, a sense of something about him tingling at the edge of her mind as she watched the footage. Her hand ready to trigger her comms should she need her operatives to detain him, thankfully Scotland Yard and MI5 had not fought SHIELD on adding extra security which made her life simpler.

 

She watches as he enters the building, noting that her deputy monitored the identity check on his laptop. It came back clean, no flags. Still something had nagged at her, the man, his posture and appearance was familiar somehow.

 

It came over the comms that the event had officially started and she informed her team to notify her of any incidents which occurred.

 

The night had progressed smoothly, the only blip had been the man who waited till the last second to go in. That man nagged at her, something was prodding her mind to recognise something.

 

Her team was doing their work unobtrusively both in and out of the building, so she decide to check up on the man, his identity would be logged into the system. A few keystrokes on her laptop and the profile information for Darnel Boyle appeared on her screen.

 

She was about to activate her broadcast comms, when a message came over them, the last minute entry man was leaving just as the questions were starting. She looked at the security screens watching him exit the lecture hall just as the lights were rising to brightness. She quickly told everyone to continue their duties and she would carry out any required actions in this instance. Her deputy nodded, notifying all operatives that he was taking central role, the look on his face told her that he was just a bit jealous she was getting to do what would probably be the only interesting work all night. She checked her equipment belt as she exited the van.

 

She spotted the man moving quickly towards St. James Park, faster than she had expected. She noticed that he kept checking his arm, a soft glow emanating from it as he pulled his sleeve back. Cautiously she rested her hand on the grip of her ICER as she jogged after him.

 

As he approached the edge of the pavement leading to the road separating them from the park, the Royal Artillery Monument just lit by the street lamps across from them, with very little traffic to make any noise. She was about six feet behind him when she shouted,

 

“Leopold Fitz, stop right there.”

 

Even though she was fairly sure she wouldn’t use the ICER, her hand remained on it, as he stopped and started to turn around to face her. She hadn’t been completely sure, but now it was confirmed she recognised her old friend, one she hadn’t been able or allowed to see in almost seven years. Not since he helped bring them all back all those years ago.

 

She looked at the man in front of her, as he tried to fold in upon himself. Never a big man, now he appeared almost frail, too gaunt, too pale, looking smaller than he had in years gone by. His suit not quite fitting correctly, the dark material of the suit and the dark gray shirt only serving to highlight the paleness of his skin. She could still see the glow on his right arm, she couldn’t tell what was making it, but noticing it changed slightly as his left hand pressed into it. Then she took in the shocking streaks of grey and white that shot through his stubble and hair, colours that had not been there the last time she had seen him. All in all, the years had not been kind to Leopold Fitz she observed.

 

Her face must have shown her emotions as she wasn’t really trying to hide the shock at actually seeing him here and the changes evident in him or the anger at the fact that she, or anyone from SHIELD, hadn’t been allowed to see him in years as he couldn’t hide the apprehension in his voice as he replied,

 

“Hello, Daisy”

 

She almost choked in surprise, seven years and all he could come up with was that? But then had her instruction to stop been any better?

 

Before she could say anything, he continued,

 

“You are looking well, Daisy, though the neck, hope you put them down hard. Congratulations on the promotion, who would have thought that you would be SHIELD Operations Tactical Commander this soon. You done well for yourself, though isn’t it a little below you to check out a single individual? Don’t you have minions for this kind of thing?”

 

She could hear in his voice the forced nonchalance over the sincerity of his compliments and congratulations. He didn’t appear resentful of her, which had been her fear, her life had gotten better and better over the last few years while his had spiralled away from him.

 

Rubbing her scar with the hand that had been on the ICER to do so, she replied,

 

“He’s not bothering anyone anymore. And thanks, though I wasn’t aware the operations organisation was such public knowledge like the science division is these days. And you popped up on my screen, Darnel Boyle.”

 

As she pointed indicated she knew about his assumed identity, he winced, bowing his head,

 

“It wasn’t my choice of an alias, but beggars can’t be choosers”

 

“It was a good alias and while the photo manipulations had the detection algorithms fooled, it was just a little too light in history details. And most of my minions as you call them, would have been fooled as well, but not me. Mind telling me how you got that ID?”

 

“I’m afraid I can’t, not my information to divulge.”

 

“Didn’t think you would. I should have recognised you quicker though, especially with the nervous act standing outside the building. Scoring an invite must have been difficult, particularly with the type of guests here tonight.”

 

“Fairly certain it wasn’t an act, and I couldn’t miss this, it’s such an honour for her. Even if I can’t speak to her, I had to see her receive the award and deliver the lecture.”

 

“You took a big risk coming.”

 

“You are taking a big risk talking to me and not having me arrested.”

 

“Some risks are worth taking.”

 

“How is she? How is she really, Daisy? She looks pale and a little tired, tell me it's just the medal?”

 

“Was wondering how long it would take you to ask. She’s coping, we all are. She’s been under the weather lately, working too hard and too much. She’s trying to carry everything in the division on her shoulders and its wearing her down.”

 

He frowned at this,

 

“Why isn’t Coulson doing anything about it? She’s producing great work, I mean, the Croonian Medal at her age, in her position, not to mention all of her published work. I’ve heard that Stark is trying to woo her away to work for his company.”

 

“Coulson is trying, we all are but she keeps burying herself in work, she’s not balancing her life. We all know why.”

 

He looked away guiltily,

 

“You know why, you know that it can’t happen, why I can’t help, not while SHIELD is needed, not while she is needed there. You all have to help her, even get her to move on.”

 

“She doesn’t want to move on, she wants what she wants and nothing is going to change that. So until things change she is going to keep throwing herself into her work and the best the rest of us can do is try and keep her afloat.”

 

He started in response to her words,

 

“You know the problems it would cause, she is getting the recognition she deserves now, nothing can allowed to tarnish it. And you know that if I were to even just approach her, what could happen, what they would do. They would tear her down, you down if they aren’t already going to for this conversation, SHIELD down. Just because they can if they are given even the smallest hint that their version of the deal has been breached.”

 

Daisy sighed,

 

“She knows that, I know that. And I know you are happy for her to get what she deserves for her work, but what about her life, what about you?”

 

He snorted,

 

“She is the one we need to worry about, she’s the best scientist SHIELD has and she needs to be there to help you protect the world. I wish I could help her to cope, but you know what would happen.”

 

She watched as he pressed his arm again, the subtle glow shifting colours, before starting again,

 

“Coulson blames himself, you know. For the deal that was made, I don’t think he or we realised the full implications of it.”

 

“Tell him he shouldn’t, we all missed what they decided to do, we tried to make a deal with the devil and the devil always wins in these things. Particularly when that devil is really the US Government. SHIELD had become an embarrassing problem to them and they wanted their pound of flesh, but knew that they still needed SHIELD.”

 

“But why you, why did you accept this knowing what it would do to us, to Jemma?”

 

He looked irritated at this,

 

“I didn’t volunteer if you are asking that, but they had us over a barrel in many ways, but the only person they had actually usable evidence against was me. My actions breaking out and back in with Hunter left evidence against me and me alone from the team.”

 

“We could have fought it, we could have made a better deal, you could have been helped, I wouldn’t have to help Jemma cope with the separation everytime something reminds her of you, knowing you are out there but unable to come back.”

 

“There wasn’t a choice in the end, and while a lot of it was my selfish desire to ensure that Jemma would be safe, it wasn’t just her, it was all of you. None of you were in any fit state for more confinement or other consequences. I couldn’t let them lock Jemma up, I couldn’t let Mack deal with everything in prison, I couldn’t let you and Elena be experimented and used by the army. Within SHIELD you are all safe. And we didn’t realise the restrictions they would put on me, the hatchet job they did in not only the US press but globally on me. I can never work for a government body again, my criminal record bars me for many other positions, the treason conviction and other whisperings from the justice department ensures I can’t teach or do research in any college or university.”

 

His breath was starting to get ragged as he continued,

 

“They barred me from working in government but were quite happy to force me to work for them in prison. I was in prison for five years, but still had to produce designs for them. Don’t get me wrong, it was forced labour but at least I was contributing to something, something more than myself though I never designed any weapons for them.”

 

She jumped into saying something to give him a chance to calm down a little, seeing the toll the exterion was starting to take on him, his right hand shaking erratically,

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry our freedom came at such a price, and that you couldn’t contact us, that you aren’t allowed to contact us.”

 

His agitation increased as he continued his rambling, slightly incoherent speech, appearing to fold in upon himself if it were possible,

 

“I never wanted any of you to see me in prison. And I’m out now, but they are still watching you, I can’t risk that, it was enough of a risk to come tonight but I couldn’t miss it and that was selfish of me. She deserves the best, better than the likes of me can give here, could ever have given her. And me being there at least let you all try to have some semblance of a life. Can you tell Mack and Elena congratulations, that I’m glad they’ve stayed together, that they’ve carved out a bit of a happiness?”

 

“Yes, I’ll tell them, of course. And remember it’s human, you wanting to see her in her moment of triumph, the woman you love getting the reward and recognition for her brilliance. And if things had gone wrong, you know she wouldn’t blame you.”

 

“I would blame me. She should blame me. I just can never seem to be the person she needs me to be, the person she deserves”

 

“She still talks to your mum, you know.”

 

“I didn’t, my mum is very careful about what she says these days, but it doesn’t surprise me. It was horrible for her, her son plastered across the press as a traitor and terrorist. It took a toll on her health and I haven’t been able to see her in person for so long.”

 

She could see the shimmer of tears in his eyes and again he pressed his right arm, she couldn’t contain her curiosity as she asked,

 

“What is that on your arm, Fitz, what do you keep pressing on your arm?”

 

He fidgeted, looking as though he was warring with himself as to what to say before he started,

 

“It’s my controller implant.”

 

“Controller implant? What for, why do you have an implant?”

 

He rolled his sleeve up to expose a display in his right wrist and forearm, the displays merged with his flesh, a part of it rather than traditional display technologies. He touched part of it and most of the displays faded, leaving just one which contained a body status display. Alarmingly to her, though she didn’t understand it all, it showed signs of stress on his body if she interpreted it correctly.

 

He replied with a wry grin at the end, “I’ve got several implants, this is just for information and control this one, though it does have communications functions as well, couldn’t let that one go amiss.”

 

“By why? Why put the tech into your body?”

 

“I need it to survive, though they didn’t always look like this, this is relatively new, the prior version were mostly external units.”

 

“What do you mean survive?”

 

“There was an incident you could say, about 3 months into my prison stay, and I found out that there were side effects from our little jaunt in time. From what I understand there have been no long lasting effects on any of you, but I took the long way round to get there and the shortcut back. Turns out the mix of the long term sleep and transfer technology caused a biological instability in my system. My body becomes unstable manifesting in different effects; for the record the hair wasn’t my choice. It’s affected my body including healing and metabolism.”

 

“Oh, Fitz, we didn’t know, we didn’t even think, we could have helped if they had asked us, Jemma would have been able to help.”

 

“It wasn’t your fault, they would never have told you, they had a hold over me and through me it was a little reminder for Coulson and SHIELD that as independent as they like to think they are, the governments of the world can always get leverage on them. It took me a while to build something in conjunction with some utterly unimaginative doctors which would help stabilise me. My colleagues have helped me refine it more and the technology is a part of me now, keeping me alive and stable, biologically speaking.”

 

“Who are these colleagues?”

 

At this point, Daisy noticed that a dark town car had pulled up behind Fitz and a striking dark haired woman in a business suit had emerged from it.

 

She strode self-assuredly to stand beside Fitz, gently putting her hand on his left arm, waiting for him to indicate something to her. He raised his right arm, the display still visible and nodded to her.

 

Then it clicked as she realised the woman was Hope van Dyne, formerly Chairperson of Pym Technologies, current CEO of Van Dyne Enterprises, founded after the collapse of Pym Technologies, a broad range science and technology research company. A company that has made a big name for itself in just over six years with its advances in many fields and evidently Fitz was working for her.

 

The gestures, unspoken cues between them indicated that they trusted each other, but she noticed that Fitz deferred to Hope. Following what she seems to be indicating, a little alarm on his face as Hope focussed her attention on Daisy.

 

“Commander Johnson, I do hope you have no intentions of detaining my trusted employee further.” Hope’s authoritative voice, clear and crisp, cut through the evening air, though the stress in the sentence was odd. It was as if Hope were playing a part of some sort, that the words were not the message.

 

Startled by the sudden shift in the evening, she replied,

 

“Ms van Dyne, I had no idea that I was detaining your employee,  I was just asking an old friend how they were. I have no intentions of detaining him.”

 

“I see, Commander, I did catch the last part of your conversation and it seems to confirm what you are saying. But I lack any real trust in authorities associated with the governments of the world these days, and with his status in your world, I’m sure you can understand my concern.”

 

The words were not meant as an accusation, but still they hurt her, that Fitz had been branded a traitor, his reputation never to be rehabilitated due to the efforts of others.

 

“I would never have done anything to him. He is my friend, an old friend.”

 

“I see.”

 

Hope’s short reply hung in the air as Fitz appeared to want to disappear, the stress of the situation seemed to be getting to him.

 

“He may be regarded as criminal in your world, Commander, even if you do not share that view, but to me even though he cannot publically be acknowledged, he is a valued employee who has become a pawn in the power struggles of things far larger than he. And I will not stand for any harassment of my employees.”

 

Again, her words and the intonation seemed strangely dissonant, then the realisation struck, it was an act, she was playing a role. One designed to protect Fitz and Daisy. She realized that Hope had worked out what could have happened and was ensuring that no one could come down on them, her rebukes were rehearsed but her loyalty to Fitz was genuine.

 

“I understand Ms van Dyne, I will ensure that no repercussions will come down on him, or your company.”

 

There was an unspoken exchange between them, an understanding formed before Hope quietly spoke to Fitz, telling them they had to leave.

 

“A pleasure, Commander.”

 

“Likewise, Ms van Dyne.”

 

They turned towards the town car, the chauffeur holding the door to the rear open for them. Fitz let his boss in first and before entering himself, he looked at her forlornly and she heard the quiet plea,

 

“Please continue to take care of her, Daisy”

 

She nodded, unwilling to trust that anything she could say would help him in this instant.

 

Then they were gone, the town car smoothly pulling away before u-turning to travel along the park edge.

 

* * *

  


“We are trying to take care of him.”

 

The man’s voice startled her, her ICER out of its holster and pointed at him before she consciously processed what was happening. There was a man in a tech suit, colour dull black and red, the helmet open to reveal his face as his hands were raised in appeasement.

 

“Hey, came down, Quake, just glad you choose the ICER and not seperating my molecules. Though you do realise if I were a bad guy, you’d be unconscious before I even announced myself. Or I would just have slipped by completely unnoticed.”

 

She noted a few things as she held the ICER steady; his voice had a sarcastic, almost cocky tone, he didn’t really look phased by the weapon pointed in his direction and he hadn’t actually threatened her with real harm.

 

“Can I put my hands down? Some of us aren’t as young as we used to be.”

 

She lowered her weapon, the names clicking back into place in her head:

 

“Ant-Man, it’s been a while, hasn’t it Scott?”

 

“Nice to see getting promoted hasn’t made you forget us, Daisy”

 

“Well, SHIELD has to keep track of you small time heroes, just in case”

 

A smirk crossed his face, “Who was it asking for our help just a few years ago? And make sure Wasp doesn’t hear you talk like that, bad puns and all.”

 

She groaned, the fact that Hope van Dyne was the Wasp had completely fallen out of her head while dealing with her just moments ago.

 

As if realising what she was thinking, he continued,

 

“Don’t worry about it, she was here in her scary persona, the big boss, sometimes I don’t know why she ever bothers with the Wasp suit.”

 

“She is an impressive lady, Scott.”

 

“She is an impressive person, Daisy, no matter what.”

 

“Aren’t you worried about the real names thing in public, there are a lot of cameras around you know, never know who will see this?”

 

“You really think anything that is being recorded is real just now, even your conversation with Fitz wasn’t recorded. Hope didn’t know, but the team has been replacing the feeds since he exited the building. Deniability and all that you know.”

 

She started, “What about real threats though?”

 

He admonished her gently, his voice taking on a more serious tone, “My people aren’t fools, we are keeping an eye on things and real threats will get passed on. Fitz just needed to be safe.”

 

“Scott, Aren’t your associates all criminals?”

 

“Not all of them, Hank and Hope certainly aren’t but yeah most of them. Means we know what we are looking for.”

 

“And Fitz is working with you now?”

 

“Technically he is working for Hope at Van Dyne though he is never in their buildings. While the company is private, she does understand that having Fitz publically would be a PR disaster. He understands too unfortunately and he just has to accept it.”

 

“It’s not fair”

 

“Life rarely is, Daisy, life rarely is. And we are trying to help him, even if we aren’t you or Jemma or your team. We all kinda have a past, and we can help him a bit with our own experiences. And it is good for Hank to be challenged even more.”

 

She didn’t want to ask but had to, “Is he happy?”

 

He looked resigned as he answered,

 

“No, he is coping but he isn’t happy. He tracks everything he can about you all, obvious Jemma is at the top of his list. He has everything she ever does, if it weren’t what was keeping him tethered and pushing through we’d worry even more. He tracks her work and the only time he really brightens is when he sees her get her due, or she gives an interview and he sits watching her.”

 

“She isn’t really happy either.”

 

“I figured, while we don’t work together often, but when I see her there is always a melancholy air around her.”

 

“I don’t know how to get their story to finish well.”

 

“Things work out, Daisy, we have to believe that we can work things out. That’s what get us through the dark days, I mean look at me now, that there is something better is what gets us through things like prison.”

 

“What has he been doing? Is he working just with Hope or is he involved with you know?”

 

“I can’t go into everything, there isn’t time, but he is doing good work for Hope, you know those medical drones that SHIELD has been using for the last six months, that’s his work along with the new implants for monitoring medical conditions. Although they are toys compared to his, due to his condition. He is building and designing so many things to help people.”

 

“But he can’t get the credit, can he, not without drawing attention to himself?”

 

“No, but honestly I don’t think he cares about it. He just wants her to be proud of him, to know that he spent his time doing some good if he can’t be with her. Hope has made private records of everything he has done, so in the future he can get credit. And for some of the patents, while Van Dyne owns them and is on record, he asked that Jemma’s name be added as some of the tech depends on her work and while he can’t work directly with her, he says it reminds him of the old days.”

 

She nodded, not quite sure what to say, but she knew she would look up the recent patents submitted by Van Dyne Enterprises when she got back to base.

 

“As for the other stuff, he has been helping out, he’s helped us refine our equipment. Bringing in new ideas and some stuff from his days with you guys. Unfortunately he can’t use the suits, his condition and the brain injury wouldn’t react well. And he never goes into the field as you would term it, he is always at base. I think it works for us, his condition though stable is always a concern.”

 

“Jemma doesn’t go into the field either these days, although it’s her choice and she keeps up her qualification.”

 

“We noticed that. This new public SHIELD thing is great for finding out things, and for things that aren’t public, we can still find it out.”

 

“I’ll be checking our security now.”

 

“Hasn’t been a lock invented we can’t get through.”

 

“We will see about that.”

 

The slight levity faded as he stated,

 

“I need to get back, Hope won’t wait forever for me to get to the plane.”

 

He paused, fumbling in a compartment attached to his belt for a moment before proffering a memory unit to her.

 

“This is some machine designs and specifications and some code updates that Fitz thinks Jemma might need. As I said he tracks all her work and thinks that these things might help her push things even further forward. Says that Mack can build them for her, that you could help her patch in the code. I think he just wanted to try and see if he could still be useful to her. He asked it be done quietly, he doesn’t want anyone to get into trouble.”

 

She took the unit, slipping it into a secure pocket,

 

“Tell him that I’m sure she’ll appreciate it. And don’t worry about people finding out, I’m sure the Director and I can keep things under wraps.”

 

“Daisy, I know all this has been hard for you all, so if you ever want to see him, contact me.”

 

“Does he know you are making this offer?”

 

“No, haven’t told him anything about it, he knew it was a risk coming tonight and he doesn’t want to put you all in the position of risking what you have again. I’m doing this because like you I see the toll it is taking on them, on him directly and her when I see her. My team and I work under the radar, we can make sure that no one knows, trust me.”

 

“I’ll think about it, look into things and get back to you.”

 

With a little smile he hinted at something, “And you never know, maybe Van Dyne will be in the market for some new employees soon.”

 

She started to ask what he meant, when the helmet closed and he shrunk down. She could see him jump onto a flying ant and rise into the evening sky. A cocky little salute was his only farewell.

* * *

 

 

She watches the flying ant until it disappears into the darkened sky. She had wanted to talk to her friend, and ended up finding out so much yet was left with so many unanswered questions. She wondered what she should do about it, who should she tell, who could she tell without it coming back with huge consequences?

 

She could ignore it all, but would that be fair to him, to her, the others or herself? That wasn’t really an option but could she really burden everyone with knowledge that he had been there? Or what was going on with him and them being unable to do anything about it?

 

Should she take up the offer, the offer to see him from Scott? Maybe she should do it herself, to check it would be safe? Before telling the others or her.

 

Looking at her watch for something to focus on, she realised that the drinks reception would be in full swing now and that she should get back to her post.

 

She reactivated her comm unit, requesting a status report on the event and the condition of Simmons and her family and the other SHIELD personnel in attendance. The efficient response coming almost immediately, just as she had trained them.

 

Disappearing back into the van, she looked back out into the night wondering what next.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes people have to live consequences that come out of well meaning actions taken quickly. Sometimes it's not about the people but the apparent meaning of the action to others.
> 
> The Croonian Medal and Lecture is real, it is a prestigious award for premier work in the biological sciences awarded by the Royal Society and a list of Actual Croonian Medal awardees:  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Croonian_Lecture#List_of_lecturers_(Royal_Society_–_for_RCP_lecturers_see_below)
> 
> The Royal Society building in London is located just above St. James Park.
> 
> The medical drones were something that appeared in another fiction, it’s probably been in others but this was one that stuck in my head: Tea and Sympathy by jessiecrimefighter.
> 
> If people want to comment, do so below. Particularly if you can indicate improvements (of which there are many to be sure) that could be made.


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